Elemental Natures
by Tripsoverhercats
Summary: A brief look inside.... Companion piece to Monsters Inside, AU Based on the 5 chinese elements and the people who reflect them. Complete!
1. Tu

A/N: Ahem, yes, well, as has been asked, I'm not dead. Just really… distracted. (stuffs Roy Mustang under her bed...) But despite the lure of FMA, I have not forgotten Saiyuki! The last chapter of Monsters Inside is about 60% done (the bits with Hakkai and Gojyo have been complete since February, it's Goku and Sanzo that have been giving me fits on the wrap up) but this little side piece was something I'd been sitting on, and decided to release even though MI isn't totally wrapped up. This takes place in the same timeline, with the setting about 8-9 months after MI. Just a little drabble on the natures of our favorite lads….  
  
Disclaimer: This is a piece of fan-fiction written for the sole enjoyment of the reader. (And we do enjoy these boys, don't we?)  
  
Part I: Earth  
  
The class was small and consisted of two senior monks, a very talented young novitiate, and the doctor's apprentice. The art of Chi-healing was a discipline that took decades to refine and control and Yang was inarguably the finest practitioner in all of Chang-an.   
  
"Today I will discuss the elements, and how you need to modify your treatments on a patient's nature." Yang began, seating himself with a grace that was beginning to slow, his silver braid flicking neatly to the side to avoid being sat upon. "While every person carries the traits of all five elements, the majority will tend to favor one in particular." Yang drew out a small leather folder filled with papers of all colors and plucked out a sheet of yellow. "We shall begin with Earth, such a common and seemingly simple element to understand…"  
  
On the surface, Goku was an easy person to figure out. So long as there was something to eat, someone to fight with, and a certain person to keep an eye on, he was content. It was only when he started lacking those foundations that he started remembering things he'd rather forget, and strained for the memories that he had lost. Inside, he was filled with caverns of nothingness, dark and cold, and when he was alone it was very easy to become lost in it searching desperately for the sun.  
  
The first time he had gotten into an argument with Gojyo, Goku received a shock. Normally all he had ever had to do to win a fight against anyone (except for Sanzo) was to raise his voice and act a little scary and after two days of wary circling around the half-breed, Goku made a try at Gojyo's breakfast. Gojyo had raised his voice right back, and then swiped back the meat bun Goku had snitched from the redhead's plate. The rapidly escalating taunts had dragged a very irate Sanzo from the bedroom where he had been watching over the injured Gonou. Sanzo hadn't been terribly coherent, but his lack of sleep had not affected the priest's aim.  
  
Escaping out into the rain, Gojyo and Goku ducked around the side of the building. Gojyo cocked a thumb back at the inn's entrance and smirked, "Blondie just doesn't appreciate a good insult does he?"  
  
A laugh escaped Goku, "No, no he doesn't." The two shared a grin and Goku felt a part of him that had been missing snap back into place.  
  
The yellow paper twisted and folded under Yang's skilled fingers as he spoke. "And lastly, when Earth is placed under tremendous pressure, it reacts with unsurpassed violence. What do think an emperor fears more, a military coup or a peasant uprising? A few thousand men with swords or millions with scythes?" Yang carefully set the paper he had been manipulating on the table, spearing it in place with a pin. "When Earth shatters, all you can do is wait out the tremors and repair what you can afterwards."  
  
A tissue of silver-white sipped out of the folder next, and Yang held it up with a smile. "Deep within the heart of Earth, you will always find Metal." 


	2. Jin

Part II: Metal  
  
"Metal is a substance of purpose. Once it is set to that purpose, it becomes ill suited for anything else. After all, you do not want to plow a field with a sword, or shave your head with a horseshoe." Dr. Yang gestured with the silver-white paper, twitching the first folds into place.   
  
Sanzo had spent the better part of a frustrating afternoon listening to Gojyo describe various demon customs to Yang, Hakkai and Goku. Nothing he heard was useful to him, or his search. Demons were an isolated, clannish lot, and the actions of one group were of little concern to others. He left the group without an apology, and stalked off into the snow.  
  
Eight years, and he was falling farther and farther away from his master's killers. In that time, two more Sanzos had dropped out of sight, three scriptures missing. All he had to show for his endless search were three demonic tagalongs, several bad habits, a blood-stained conscious and the strong feeling that his chain was being yanked.   
  
He had agreed to assist the Sanbutsushin in Chang-an in return for aid in recovering the Seiten Scripture, but after four years he still had nothing. Four years, and a group of supposedly omniscient beings had come up with squat. Only two scriptures left, what the hell are you doing up there, throwing a party?  
  
There was no answer, but then, he wasn't expecting one. He was only spoken to when they wanted something.   
  
Back in his office, Sanzo picked up the afternoon's correspondence, idly slipping on his glasses as he scanned through them. Most of it he dumped on his secretary, but one piece caught his attention. Sanzo had been spending fair amount of the Sanbutsushin's credit on buying whatever scraps of information he could acquire on odd happenings.  
  
"It is believed that the demon in question is using both sorcery and technology in his experiments. There have been several disappearances in the surrounding towns, and sightings of several unnatural beasts in the area."  
  
Sanzo pulled out several maps, and traced out the route. Even with winter not yet fading, there was a passable river course that would serve. "Find out what barges are ready to leave, and charter one. Make sure it's a bonded crew, I've had it with those flaky independents."  
  
"I… yes Sanzo-sama. What should I bring?"  
  
"Bring?" Sanzo spared his secretary an irritated glance. "This isn't a social call, Toga. You're not going. Clear my appointments, I don't know when I'll be back." With three strides he hit the door and the priest was striding for his quarters, his bellow summoning Goku like a shot from the infirmary. This lead may be as worthless as the last five, but if he didn't go, he'd never be sure.  
  
The secretary, Toga, watched as Sanzo and Goku were joined at the gates less than an hour later by Dr. Yang's two "special students". He watched as they exchanged a few words with Sanzo, and the priest finally shrugging as all four walked out. "Why not me? Why didn't you choose me?" Jealousy twisted deep inside.  
  
The shimmering paper joined it's golden counterpart, the pin keeping them nested together. "It requires a skilled hand to form and shape Metal, a carelessly made tool will not last long and as healers, you must learn to recognize these flaws. If they grow too serious, the person will break. Trying to reforge broken Metal is difficult, and what comes out is never as sound as the original."   
  
The next sheet of paper emerged, one side blue, the other green. "Much like Metal, Wood can be shaped and set to a purpose, but sometimes it is just best to see how it grows." His gaze fell upon his dark haired apprentice, and cool green eyes met Yang's. 


	3. Mu

A/N: Several times now I've tried writing what went on with Gonou, Sanzo and the Sanbutsushin, but the boys flatly refuse to cooperate. (Which is one of the reasons the last chapter of Monsters Inside has stalled so badly) However, I did manage to get down what might have been Hakkai's first morning and his meeting with Dr. Yang. Still not entirely happy with this bit, but sometimes things just don't flow right.  
  
Part III: Wood  
  
"Of the five elements, Wood is the only one that is truly alive. It grows, requires nourishment and air, reproduces itself, it can get ill, and it dies." Aged fingers creased the two-toned paper. 'It's versatility is amazing, Wood can be put to more uses than any other of the elements, but it is the most frail of the five."  
  
He awoke in the darkness before dawn on an unfamiliar mattress. He lay there for a minute, letting his eyes adjust, his fingers questing for the edge of the bed. The sheets under his hand were clean, and of a finer weave than he had ever been able to afford. The temple, he recalled. He was at Sanzo's temple in Chang-an. They had arrived at the holy city yesterday; yesterday he had been brought forth before the Sanbutsushin. Yesterday, Cho Gonou had died.  
  
A slow, careful roll brought his feet to the floor; his toes met cool wood, finely sanded and waxed. The raw scar across his belly complained at the motion, but the discomfort could be ignored. Clean clothes sat on the dresser, none of it his, but all of it fit. He could smell the incense that permeated the air, hear the soft sounds of Gojyo, asleep in a room down the short hall.  
  
Dim light filtered up from the staircase, and he drifted down, ghosting along the ground floor, past a well-appointed infirmary, a small office and ended up in a small courtyard where an old man was cooking.  
  
"Ah, I see you're an early riser. Tea?" Broad sleeves were turned back as the man rapidly put together a small plate of breads and fruits then poured heated water into a kettle.  
  
"I… yes, thank you." He blankly took the offered tray and hesitated, not sure where he should sit. Seeing the indecision on his face, the older man gently pushed the younger towards the low table.  
  
"Still a bit adrift, are you? I've been told an audience with the gods can be draining, and you weren't in the best of shape to start with."  
  
"Adrift…" he stared at the plate until the old man placed a fruit in his hand. Yes, adrift was the word. Kanan was avenged, Gojyo was out of danger, and he had been judged for his crimes… what was he supposed to do now?  
  
"Hmm… yes. Adrift and off center." Tea appeared on the table, and the old man sat down next to him. "Well, let's have a look at you then." A firm hand gripped his chin, and his gaze was lifted to meet the dark regard of the old man. An ethereal touch shivered across his skin, oddly familiar with a metallic tang to it.  
  
"Chi," he breathed. "You're using chi."  
  
"Indeed I am. It's very useful for determining what's going on inside a person." The old man let out a thoughtful click. "You aren't grounded at all, which is the first thing you need to do..." The old man trailed off with a questioning tone.  
  
"Hakkai... they said my name was Cho Hakkai." It was the first time he had said it, and the name rolled off easily.  
  
"And I am called Yang. Welcome to my home, Cho Hakkai."  
  
The blue and green paper fluttered in the afternoon breeze as Dr. Yang pinned it down with the other two. "One of the greatest achievements of Wood, is that it enabled man to work with the most unstable of elements, and master it to our wills." A bright red sheet of paper slipped free from the folder. 


	4. Huo

Part IV: Fire  
  
"Of all the elements, Fire cannot exist by itself. It must have a source, and fuel to feed it." The red paper flickered like it's elemental namesake as the old man began to work it into folds. "But in return, it gives light and warmth to those who gather around its flames."  
  
It was like looking through a distorted mirror sometimes, how he almost, but not quite looked right. His hair was crimson and long, but the style was different. The eyes might flash redly at times, but a second look darkened their color. The mark on the left cheek only appeared to be bloody streaks, they quickly resolved into the flaming clan mark. Kougaiji was not his brother, and he was no longer Jien.  
  
It was easy to serve him though, the demon prince attracted followers like moths, and had Kougaiji so chose, he could easily match his step-mother, Gyokumen, in body servants. That Kougaiji only kept Yaone and himself as personal retainers only intensified the prince's mystique. He was a remnant of the older days, before the War God had fractured the demons' society, turning a once great nation into isolated clans. Gyokumen ruled in Houtu castle, but it was a precarious balance. Her position depended greatly on Kougaiji's loyalty to her, enforced with the imprisonment of his mother. That, and Lirin. Lirin was so clearly Kougaiji's half-sister that Gyokumen could stake her claim as a wife to Gyumaoh.  
  
Where Kougaiji was a smoldering blaze, Lirin was a bright spark. She was light and laughter in an increasingly oppressive atmosphere. Neglected by her mother, who saw her as nothing but a tool for power, it had fallen to them to raise her. He had startled Kougaiji and Lirin with his skill with children, he had given a small smile and a murmur about once having a younger brother. They didn't press him, they knew all too well the dangers of living.  
  
Today, he found Kougaiji sorting through the dispatches, windows flung wide to take advantage of the coolness of the fall. The prince barely glanced up at him as he entered, and offered up one of the reports. "Here, Doku, have a look at this one." Doku rested his hip against the desk and began to peruse the sheets of parchment, one eyebrow slowly arching.  
  
"Is this right? The entire clan gone?" Dokugakuji asked, disbelievingly. At Kougaiji's nod, he continued reading. "Well, they never were a very stable group, but still, the whole clan, just like that?" He continued down the page, reading the collected rumors. "Gods, Kou, this is crazy. The evidence points towards a single killer? A Sanzo priest spotted in the area? The Centipede Clan were no pushovers, and Maoh was well hidden."  
  
Amethyst eyes locked with his. "You may have said it Doku. Gods." A dark smile twisted his lips. "Or one god anyway. He could have done it. The question is why. Why now? Why them? They weren't allied with us, in fact with them gone, the smaller tribes may come and join us for protection." The prince leaned back in his chair, scrubbing at his eyes. "We need to be careful; the last thing we need right now is the gods sniffing around here again. In a few years, we'll be ready for the next phase, and then..." Kougaiji's eyes glittered with an old hatred. "Then we'll make them pay for what they've done to us."  
  
Dokugakuji shivered at the venom in the prince's voice. If there was one thing in this world that he hated more than Gyokumen, it was the gods. For 500 years he had screamed into the nothingness of a binding spell, a spell his mother was still trapped in, a spell that had been laid on Gyumaoh's family by the gods. How Gyokumen had been freed, she never said, but she was the only one now who knew the counter, the only one who could free Kougaiji's mother. One day, Kougaiji would see her dead, but not today. Not before he had his mother back, not before he found a way to strike back at the gods.  
  
"Fire must always be treated with respect and careful attention. That which warms and comforts can also destroy. Fire is opportunistic, if you give it an opening, you'll be burned before you feel the heat. Best to keep a bucket of water nearby." The red paper joined the other three on the desk. "Ha, and speaking of Water..." a black sheet emerged, "let us end today's lesson with a look at the most unchanging element of all." 


	5. Shui

Part V: Water  
  
"Wood, Earth and Metal can all be shaped and arranged according to our desires. Fire can be created or extinguished at our whims. But Water is always Water. Boil it into steam, and it recondenses; freeze it and it melts again. You can dam it, mix it, separate it into tiny glasses and drink it, but in the end Water will once again return to itself."  
  
Gojyo had over the course of his teenage years picked up a fair knowledge of street fighting, and combined with his demonic strength it was usually enough to get him out of trouble with the local toughs he tended to run afoul of. After seeing the old doctor perform his morning forms, he was more than willing to learn the man's techniques. What he wasn't prepared for was the speed at which he learned.  
  
Goyjo had always known he wasn't the smartest guy around; he was barely literate, and his idea of thoughtful conversations generally revolved around the mystery of women and the current house odds, assisted with copious amounts of alcohol. But the moment Dr. Yang dropped a sword into his hand, he understood the blade. His hands automatically shifted to the correct grip, his body snapped into the perfect opening stance. It was not so much a lesson as a refamiliarization. No matter what weapon Yang handed him, within hours Gojyo had mastered it. It puzzled the doctor, and was beginning to scare Goyjo.  
  
"I've got a little experiment for you to try today, if you don't mind Gojyo." Dr. Yang said. "You've been here almost five months now, and I'm curious to see how far we can press this... ability of yours."  
  
Gojyo looked up from the dripping coffee pot (his pot, since neither Yang or Hakkai indulged) and gave a face splitting yawn. "What'd ya have in mind, doc? Not running Goku around the yard again? I've still got bruises from that last fight. Kid does not know how to pull his punches."  
  
"No, one of my son's friends is a very good swordsman, and I've asked for him to come and have a match with you. He accepted, and has time this morning, so he should be here in about half an hour."  
  
"Half hour! Doc that's barely enough time to get the morning kinks out!" Gojyo's hand went to rub the thick scar tissue that ripped across his right shoulder.  
  
"Indeed, and your enemies will always be so courteous as to let you warm up first?" Came the response from the doorway. A middle-aged man in an impeccably tailored uniform paused there, and gave Yang a polite bow.  
  
Gojyo was certain that his eyes had just about bugged out of his head, and silently thanked Hakkai's thoughtfulness at coming up with the idea of tinted lenses that not only corrected the vision in his damaged eye, but subtly altered the damning blood red color of a half-breed to a more acceptable mahogany hue. Half-breeds were technically forbidden to exist, and flaunting that status in front of a man like this who might actually know the signs was a very bad idea. "Yang, are you senile? You want me to tango with an Imperial Guardsman? 'Very good swordsman' my ass! Let me guess, this is actually going to be a lesson for Hakkai in emergency triage, isn't it?"  
  
Yang only gave Gojyo an amused smile, and shooed his student towards the practice yard. "I'd say don't be too hard on the boy, Shang, but I really do need to know what he's truly capable of achieving."  
  
Gojyo had barely picked up one of the long swords when the Guardsman struck. For nearly two minutes, it was all Gojyo could do to defend himself against the furious assault as Shang mercilessly drove him from one end of the yard to the other. Twice Shang drew blood, the cuts were shallow, but the one on his left arm was beginning to affect his grip. In the third minute of battle, Gojyo had finally found the rhythm of the other man's style, though he was still unable to shift from defense to offence. His right shoulder was screaming from the stress, too tight muscles and tendons twitching erratically and he had to shift to an entirely one-handed grip.  
  
Shang had been waiting for that, and with an odd flip and twist of his blade, he had wrenched Gojyo's sword out of his blood-slicked left hand. "Damnit, the bastard isn't even breathing hard!" Gojyo thought as he started scrambling backwards for the lost sword. The Guardsman wasn't going to let Gojyo retrieve the weapon easily, and a series of lunges had the half-demon rolling frantically away. "He's playing with me," Gojyo thought. "He's just fuckin' playing with me." A small curl of anger unraveled in his belly, and his vision began to pull into sharp focus. His hand closed around a familiar hilt and he launched himself forward as his opponent faltered for a single moment.  
  
Everything faded away as he lashed out at his enemy in the timeless dance of blood and steel. He vaguely felt something tear in his shoulder, but that was unimportant right now. Someone was shouting, he couldn't make out the words but he didn't need to listen, not with his foe in front of him, being hammered back blow after blow.  
  
"GOYJO STOP!" There was someone in front of him, a hand striking out at high speed to grip his wrist, deep green eyes locking with his. He wavered under the gaze.  
  
"Tenpou?" No… wait… that was wrong. Tenpou was dead… right? Who was Tenpou?  
  
"Look at me. Tell me my name."  
  
For a moment he was confused. Too many names were coming at him, he wasn't sure who he was, let alone this person. "I…" his head hurt, he couldn't think.  
  
"Gojyo, tell me my name." The voice was insistent, worming into his head. But if he was Gojyo, then this had to be…  
  
"Hakkai. I'm OK now." Gojyo came down off his adrenaline rush, and staggered in Hakkai's grip. "Well, maybe not OK. I feel like shit." Suddenly sitting down seemed like a very good idea. His shoulder began to burn, and one of his knees didn't seem to want to work well anymore.  
  
Yang was leading Shang back inside; the Guardsman was staring in disbelief at Gojyo. "How did he, what did he… where did he get that?! Who is he?" A trembling hand was pointing towards Gojyo's left side. Curious, Gojyo looked down, and blinked.  
  
The sword in his hand was not the one he'd started with. It was nearly a foot longer, and the design was one he'd never seen before. It had only a single edge, but the curve on it was slight, unlike the scimitar designs that Yang kept. The cross guard was missing; instead a narrow ring marked the change of blade to hilt. Fine etching snaked down the length of the blade, enhancing the watered steel with the suggestion of waves. "It's… it's mine." Gojyo said shakily, allowing Hakkai to lead him inside. "I think it's always been mine."  
  
Kanzeon Bousatsu looked up from hir newspaper as a soft clap of air echoed through hir chambers. Looking over at the mantle where various knickknacks had been stored, the Merciful Goddess spotted what was missing. "So, Kenren finally reclaimed his sword, did he? About damned time."  
  
"Water is inexorable, you cannot stop the tide, only build a wall. And it will eventually tear down the wall. Place a barrier in its path and it will seek ways around it, anger it and it rages with the force of a deadly typhoon. It is also friendly and accomodating, and can ease travel as quickly as it can hinder." Yang finished folding the black paper and pulled out a stick. Carefully he affixed all five colors to the stick with the pin, and set the pinwheel spinning in the late winter breeze. "I think my granddaughter ought to be pleased with this, isn't it lovely when they all work together?"  
  
Final Note: Done with the ficlets! Gojyo's ran a little long, and I really pared down that fight scene. Originally Fire was supposed to be a piece with Hakuryuu, but Kou gave me a little nudge and said, hey I'm Fire too! Sanzo's piece was the opening to Hakuryuu's story, and I think I'm going to try and set it down as a seperate piece. Yes, Gojyo will not be using Shakujou in this AU, as I wanted to connect his fighting skills back to his past as Kenren. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and hopefully with this finished I can hammer some more on that last, very stubborn chaper of MI! 


End file.
